Angels on Overtime: A Divine Romantic Comedy

“And how are you on this lovely day?” Marion asks Emily.

Emily scrunches her face at her boss—immediately prior to the question, the skies opened up.

“Okay, yes, it’s a little wet, maybe. But it’s still lovely.” Marion’s normal speaking voice is melodic, almost like singing. “The frogs and flowers are happy.” She returns to her project of snipping the ends of the stems of a dozen glorious, red roses. Baby’s breath and greens lie on the thick wooden table waiting to be added to the arrangement. The two women are surrounded by a sea of roses, daffodils, and tulips among many, many other types of flowers. The air inside the little store is thick with moisture and the scent of dirt and life in full bloom.

Emily tucks her purse into the cabinet under the cash register and grabs a broom and dustpan to dispose of the morning’s snippings. Judging from the copious piles of tiny green stalks on the floor, housekeeping is not Marion’s primary care, nor her hundredth. And her plants, who (yes, who) are among the top beings on her priority list, are very happy about that.

Emily sweeps with far more vigor than the chore calls for. Marion snips an inch off of the stem of the rose destined to be the star of this little rose party. She then snips two inches off of the stems of the roses that will surround the center flower. Emily catches them with the dustpan before they even hit the floor.

“Your mom doing okay?” Marion gently queries.

Emily nods. More snipping, more catching. She grabs a cloth to dust the vases on the shelves.

“And how are things with Sam?” comes another soft inquiry.

Emily doesn’t answer.

“I was married to potential for a long time. Doesn’t compare to the real thing.”

Emily knocks a vase over, but catches it before it hits the floor. “He could be so much more than he is!”

“Not all beings feel obliged to use all that they come in with.”

Emily lets out a long, long wail. While Emily’s angels cover their ears, Marion calmly hands her a box of tissues.